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Mr. Achilles by Jennette Barbour Perry Lee
page 54 of 149 (36%)

The man disappeared. Presently he returned. "You come with me," he
said. His look was less stern, but he raised his voice a little, as if
speaking to a child, or a deaf man. "You come with me," he repeated.

Achilles followed with quick-gliding foot--along the corridor, through
a great room--to a door. The man paused and lifted his hand and knocked.
His back was tense, as if he held himself ready to spring.

A voice sounded and he turned the handle softly, and looked at Achilles.
Then the door opened and the Greek passed in and the man closed the door
behind him.

A man seated at a table across the room looked up. For a minute the two
men looked at each other--the one short and square and red; the other
thin as a reed, with dark, clear eyes.

The short man spoke first. "What do you know about this?" His hand
pressed a heap of papers upon the desk before him and his eyes searched
the dark face.

Achilles's glance rested on the papers--then it lifted itself.

"Your name is Achilles?" said the other sharply.

"Achilles Alexandrakis--yes." The Greek bowed.

"I know--she called you Mr. Achilles," said the man.

A shadow rested on the two faces, looking at each other.
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